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I smelled it before I saw it.
My belly went all grumbly. My nose sniffed and sniffed. Was it hamburgers or hotdogs? I couldn't tell. My mouth watered anyway. If it smelled good, it tasted good, or so my logic went.
I sat up and stretched, my girth heaved and shifted under my skin. I got to my feet and my one good paw and started off toward town. I got at least twenty meters down the dried embankment before stopping to check my bearings. The smell of warm freshly made food wafer through the air. I smiled, licked my lips and started off again. This time I hurried along, I wanted to get to town before the fireworks show up. The fireworks had always taken me by surprised and ruin a good chunk of my day. The fireworks always attack me in the morning. If fireworks ruin this special opportunity, then the rest of my day would suck, and my appetite would be ruined.
"Oh poor, Ray," they would say to me. "You poor thing."
Yes, I suffer. My unnatural evolution was bad, and my schizophrenia was worse. But I am not in pain nor was I depressed. I was happy with my life and who I am, even though I look like the freakish result of merging the three electric-type Mice Pokémon. If you would look at me, you wouldn't begin to figure out what once was or used to be. Parts of my body had yellow fur while other parts were orange. My tail was long and slender but the tip looked like the boxy tip of a Pikachu tail. My ears were curled like a Raichu's while my collar was black like a Pichu's. My plump cheeks were rosy red like a Pikachu's, while my belly was plushy and white as a Raichu's. My right arm was structured like a Pikachu's, while my left was just a stump like the Raichu's. The only thing that were natural were my feet, which looks like the Raichu's, and one thing that was really unnatural about me was that I was a head taller than a Raichu, almost as tall as a human being.
So I called myself a Rikachu, the Mutant Mouse Pokémon. The first of my kind. The warlord of my clan, the Dixierats.
When I got into town, my senses were going off. The smell of food was everywhere, coming from chimneys, kitchen vents, barbecue grills. The town of Dixie had always made the best kind of food.
I let my tongue hang out as I surveyed the area. The local townfolks walking down the sidewalks took minor glances at me before moving on. They had seen me so many times that they no longer revoke in my presence. I had been around since most of them were kids, so they were used to me since their childhoods.
"Hi, Ray!" I heard a voice call out.
I turned, it was a thirty-something year old whose name I keep forgetting. I waved my good paw, he continued on down the sidewalk and disappeared around a corner.
My belly grumbled again, screaming for food. My focus went back to the town. I groaned. The most agonizing part of eating every morning was to wait till everyone had finished eating. Sometimes they would give me some food or even give some to my cousins. Overall they refrain from feeding us seven days a week. Which was understandable. They didn't want the local Mice Pokémon population to get dependent on particular households, they couldn't tolerate too many problems at once.
I used to be fed by human-beings on a regular basis when I was young. Those were the days of being a lab-rat, being experimented on for the good of humanity. My time in captivity wasn't even half bad, I had plenty of food and a comfy bed, and I had plenty of family members to talk to. But one day we got loose and we were free to roam the wild. I was released when I used to be a Pikachu. It was hard for me to adjust in the first few weeks. I had never experienced hunger before. My stomach hurt so much from hunger that I ate grass. Those were bad days.
Luckily we discovered the town of Dixie and found a limitless food source, but we had to scavenge for it. Being the most civil and literate, I sometimes walk into the local Pokémon Center for an occasional bath and lunch. I was free to come and stay for as long as I want, but I didn't want to abuse that privilege. The Pokémon Center is for sick and injured Pokémon, not for pests like me. So for most of the week I had to find my own food.
The usual places for free food were the trash cans and dumpsters near the local restaurants. I prefer the buffet and fast-food ones, since they throw out more food waste and they have all sorts of yummy additives. I crossed the street and made my way through the town's alleyways. My nose was glued to the ground, sorting out the many smells coming my way. The smells were mostly humans and various elemental-type Pokémon. Sometimes I would sniff out a family member who was also in a foraging run, they sometimes get to food sources before I would, but they were willing to share. We love and care for each other, it is in our nature.
I hadn't sniffed out any relatives, but I did smell a familiar spicy leftover of stuffed mushroom. Oh boy! These cheesy fungus balls always makes my belly flutter inside! I hopped to it, racing on my legs and my one good arm. The familiar dumpster was around the corner. It was green, partially rusty on the edges. I hopped on the plastic lid, it buckled and warped under my weight. I pulled the lid up and peered inside.
A lot of used chopsticks and napkins, but I do see some food. The stuffed mushrooms in question sat in the middle, and there was a lot! I hopped inside the dumpster and landed on the mound of garbage. I sank my teeth into the pile of stuffed mushrooms. Stale, but still warm. But nonetheless, my mouth explode with sensation. Ah, yes! I could feel my empty belly fill with glee! This was the tasty stuff!
I shoved my good hand into the mushrooms and downed mouthfuls of the cheesy fungus. I shifted positions and sniffed out any remaining cheesy fungus balls. Along the way I came across half-eaten dinner rolls, sushi, pot stickers, and some lo mein. I gobbled them all up, wolfing them down like tomorrow might never come. The world felt so right that I peed myself.
When I felt the lining of my stomach reach its limit, I took a moment to breathe. Wow, that hit the spot! I placed my good hand on my belly and leaned against the wall of the dumpster. I yawned. My breakfast was done. I got up and climbed out of the dumpster, I jumped and rolled onto my back, then turned over and got on my legs and good hand. I let my belly hang, I felt so fat and stoned I became really sleepy. I dragged myself toward another dumpster. This one was blue, a little newer than the last one. It smelled like nutmeg, it may be used to hold paper. Paper and cardboard were great insulators, they were so good at keeping the cold out that I used crumpled paper to insulate my burrow last winter. If there were any places to nap, paper dumpsters were my number one choice.
I walked up to the dumpster and leaped up on the plastic lid, it cratered under my immense girth. I pulled it open and slipped in…
…and hit on my head on the cast-iron floor.
I was dazed, but unhurt. I sat up and looked around. The whole bin was clean out, not a single scrap of paper in. I got up on my hind legs and reached up towards the edge, my fingers could barely grab on the edge. I tried pulling myself up, but I had no energy. I toppled over and collapsed on my back, my belly swished with stuffed food and blubber like it was a water bed.
I was stuck. It was common for pests like me to get stuck in dumpsters. Some Mice Pokémon would whimper, afraid that they would never get out. Others simply sat back and wait for rescue, usually spending the time sleeping. I took a moment to consider my options.
F*ck it, I thought. I'll sleep off the afternoon here.
I let out another yawn, I let out a heavy fart and shifted to a more comfortable position. It was dark inside the dumpster, darker than the food one. The fireworks were more intense in darkness, its flashes amplified by the dark void. Today had no exploding star puffs or crackling noises, I felt lucky. I let my muscles relaxed. I couldn't afford to stress out, not this morning. I wanted it to be a good morning, my problems can wait till evening.
I closed my eyes and let out a soft snore, then dosed off minutes later.
